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“NOW WHAT?” AUBREY HISSED at Garr, keeping her eyes on the child. The youngster hadn’t moved, his blank eyes fixed on their position, the rock upheld.
Aubrey couldn’t believe it. The Hoarders are monsters—worse than the Soul-less. Who could do this to a child?
Garr lowered his voice to the barest whisper.
“Sheila, circle around.” He gestured to their left. Sheila gave him a quick thumbs-up and melted into the shadows. Aubrey tried to track her movements, but to no avail.
“Eyes front.” Garr corrected her with a sharp whisper. “Keep the boy’s attention on us.”
Aubrey knelt beside him, the gritty floor digging painfully into her knees. Not so hidden in plain sight this time, Aubs. We’re the expendable decoys.
She kept her head low, mirroring Garr’s posture, not giving the child a clear target. It was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. The temptation to track Sheila’s progress was overwhelming. I’ve got a different role to play right now.
Her appraisal of Sheila’s abilities was revised upward yet again. At first, she’d thought of her as steady and dependable, with admirable technical skills. But Sheila’s cunning stealth as she circled around behind the child was impressive.
Never judge a book by its cover. These people are full of surprises.
Aubrey saw the heightened tension in the child’s arm, and knew he was about to throw the rock. She glanced to her right, and saw Garr intentionally offering himself as a target.
She whipped her eyes back to the child, and caught sight of Sheila’s rapid movement behind him. Aubrey yelled wordlessly, waving frantically with her good arm. Over here! Look at me! Don’t see Sheila!
Garr shoved her down, covering his head with his arm as the rock connected violently with the broken half-wall. The noise echoed in the close confines of the underground corridor, and a cloud of dust drifted over them.
Aubrey heard the sounds of struggle on the other side of the barricade. Garr vaulted over the half-wall, and Aubrey scrambled to her hands and knees, hell-bent on joining the fray.
The surreal scene unfolded in slow motion. She saw Sheila wrestling with the boy, attempting to contain his flailing arms and kicking feet. The child’s face was twisted with murderous rage, but his eyes remained curiously vacant. It’s in his blood.
The boy freed one arm and drove his elbow behind him. The vicious blow connected hard with Sheila’s midsection. She looked surprised as the breath was driven from her lungs. She staggered, her grip loosening.
It’s in his blood, Sheila—use your prod!
A silent snarl contorted the boy’s features, and he managed to twist in Sheila’s grasp as she stumbled. His free hand shot upward, his small fist clenched tight, and struck Sheila full in the face.
Sheila fell backward, landing awkwardly, dragging the boy with her. He lashed out at her, punching and kicking his way to freedom. Aubrey’s feet felt as if they were shackled by heavy weights, slowing her desperate race to come to Sheila’s aid.
If Sheila was reluctant to use her prod on a young child, Garr didn’t share her concerns. He leaped forward, seizing the boy by the arm. The child fixed a stony gaze on him and Garr jabbed his prod into the boy’s shoulder.
The boy cried out—either in pain or in shock—and stiffened before going limp. Garr caught him as he fell, twisting around toward Aubrey.
“Here, take him while I see to Sheila.” He shoved the unconscious body into Aubrey’s arms.
He’s so light. She cradled the limp body, the boy’s head resting against her shoulder. Just a kid. How could Hoarders do this?
Her mind reeled as she retraced her steps. She circled around the half-wall barrier, preoccupied with half-formed worries of the child re-awakening. Behind her, she heard Garr speaking to the bloodied Sheila, his voice gentle as he helped her regain her feet.
None of them heard the footsteps—closing rapidly—until it was too late.